Heroes
by Abyssal Dreamer
Summary: A collection of tales from the Linked Universe AU. Short oneshots and vignettes with some humour and mostly angst. Strong language.
1. Only in Dreams

Legend dreamed of her a lot.

Legend dreamed a lot anyway, Hyrule mused. Most often he had nightmares, not loud frightful affairs that the others would notice, but Hyrule would see his eyes screw up and fist clench and half-silent expletives whispered in rage. Sometimes, he seemed more peaceful, murmuring her name just before he woke. He was always hard to wake, those mornings. But Hyrule never dared ask him, knowing how fiercely secretive of his adventures Legend was. That is, until one night, where Hyrule was on middle shift. Legend began to thrash wildly in his sleep, arms flailing as if he was trying to find something to cling to. His legs kicked out and Hyrule realise he was trying to _swim_, in his sleep. Legend shook and sobbed but just as Hyrule moved to wake him, he settled down back into a more restful slumber. However, Hyrule quietly decided he had to know. If only to be able to comfort his friend. He knew Legend would never broach the subject by himself and would never admit he needed comfort. That morning, Hyrule managed to catch him on one edge of the camp as he was gathering his vast amount of trinkets into his bag.

"Who's Marin?"

He hadn't meant to word it like that. The name just seemed to bubble and burst from him. Legend froze, like a rabbit in lanternlight. For a brief moment his expression was haunted and lost, before his features turned into a snarl that Hyrule had never seen before. Legend got angry. A lot. He would shout and swear and curse and shake his fists at things. That wasn't unusual. _This_ was. He looked absolutely horrified. Hyrule found himself shrinking backwards at his gaze. Legend finally responded with two words dripping with such fury, venom and hurt that Hyrule actually flinched.

"_No. One._"

Hyrule decided to never mention it again.

* * *

A short piece about Legend's struggle with Koholint. Linked Universe was originally created by Jojo on tumblr and credit goes to her for conceiving this characterizations of the hero and the circumstances of them being brought together.


	2. Water with Attitude

"You've got to be kidding me,"

"Legend, it's just a _boat_,"

"A boat?! It's a plank of wood with a rag tied to it! If you think for one second I'm getting on that thing you've gone mad."

"It's the quickest way across the peninsula-"

"Peninsula my ass, that's ocean. Look, waves. Salty. Ocean. You're not getting my chosen ass on a plank on the ocean."

"A peninsula is a piece of land protuding outwards, actually, the water is kind of irrelevant-"

"Hyrule, shut up! You are not helping my side here!"

"Sides? It's a raft, I've used rafts before, and Wild is right, it's the quickest way across."

"Well y'all can play goddessdamned sailors, I'm keeping my two feet right here on land where they belong."

"What even is it with you and water? Can't you swim or something?" Warriors barely finished his comment before a string of expletives came his way,

"I CAN SWIM PERFECTLY FINE, THANK YOU. Water is fine, a nice river, or pond, lake, puddle, fine. I'm just not risking that water with attitude," Legend motioned wildly at the gentle waves lapping the shore. The bay couldn't have been quieter. It may as well have been a lake.

"Did you seriously just refer to the sea as 'water with attitude'?"

"Fuck OFF, Warriors!"

And that was how eight of their number floated peacefully across the bay, and one very angry member stomped his way the long way around. It was a number of hours before they saw him again at the tip of beach where they'd made camp. He was trudging through the sand, soaked through and covered in cuts and scratches. His sword, however, was still in its sheath, his bloodied fists clenched white. Wet sand clung to his boots and legs, with the stray seashell and red petal here and there. In silence, he marched right past his companions to the empty bedroll they'd already set up for him, and throwing his pack down, began to pull off his damp garments.

"What have you been fighting?" Warriors began dryly, raising an eyebrow. The others turned to look at Legend wordlessly, who, without missing a beat, responded-

"The ocean."

"What, like a fish?"

"No, the ocean."

All of them exchanged glances. Most of them settled on Time, who glared back and rose his hands as if to say, 'this shit is beyond my knowledge'.

"Legend," Twilight started slowly, "How did you fight the ocean?"

"WHY did you fight the ocean?" Wind chipped in, not hiding the bemusement and amusement in his voice.

"I don't recall it being any of your fucking businesses?" Legend snapped, and after throwing his wet tunic over a log near the fire to dry, pulled on another from his bag and collapsed onto his bedroll without another word.

* * *

Inspired by a discussion on the discord about Legend trying to fight the ocean and having a general hatred of it.


	3. The Emerald Children

He couldn't help but look for them every time they passed through a forest.

Time had seen the similarities between the countries they all inhabited. Despite sometimes vast amounts of time and space separating them, some things remained consistent, unchanging. Often, things were shared. Death Mountain nearly always loomed upon the skyline, Keese always seemed to lurk in caves. Nearly all of them had encountered a Zora, though they seemed to vary wildly in temperament and appearance. Same could be said for Gorons, though they never changed at all. Even the peculiar bird-folk seemed to be a part of both Wild and Wind's lands. But he had yet to see them.

It had been a long time since he had seen them, and he knew that they were not to be found by Twilight's time. When he mentioned the forest children once, briefly, he was met with blank looks and Wind and Wild believing he spoke of those odd little leaf critters. He tried not to dwell on their absence too much; thinking about what would drive the secretive race away from their beloved father and protector upset him. Instead, every forest, every wood, every vague copse of trees, he would strain his ears for their laughter. His eye would scan the branches and leaf litter for any hint of movement, the jingle of a fairy or a child-sized boot print. But, the unfamiliar canopies would remain silent, and the forest always still. They were never like his woods, swelled with magic, where his beloved Kokiri once climbed the trees and danced in the forest meadows.

Sometimes, if he closed his eyes and turned his face to the sunlight through the treetops, he could still see them racing through the trees, singing and chattering, as if there was never any evil in the world.


	4. The Storm's Calling

The meadow stretched out for as far as the eye could see, vast swathes of golden grass that swayed and thrashed in the winds. Above, deep grey rainclouds swelled, the sky bruised yellow and purple where they parted. The breeze picked up fiercely around the nine, whipping their hair in the heavy, thick air. _A storm was coming._ Time could almost taste it, the pressured, humid air swimming around his head. Looking at his companions, many, if not all of them, felt the same. They formed into a circle without a word shared between them, silent looks exchanged and confirmed the shared feeling. Danger. The oppressive, thick seconds that ticked past were suddenly broken by the crack of a lightning strike hitting the earth some distance from them. Time felt Legend, who was immediately to the left of him, flinch and tense up. The group murmured and shuffled from foot to foot, readying their swords in their grasp.

The great roar of thunder that happened moments later was swiftly followed by the thrum of hoofbeats. In the distance, horses appeared on the horizon. It was impossible to tell if the riders were human or bokoblin, but Time was quite sure they were enemies regardless. The sky behind them was smudged and he recognised the sign of distant rain.  
"Riders," he breathed to his compatriots, his voice crackling. "There's no cover on this open plain. We cannot outrun horses, even at this distance. Prepare."  
There was no verbal acknowledgement to his words; it wasn't needed. Another lightning strike further illuminated the hordes that rode toward them, and it became quite clear they were neither human nor bokoblin. Skeletal bodies rode skeletal steeds. Stalfos, in Wild's Hyrule? Stalblins or Stalnoxes, maybe. The hairs on Time's arms stood on end; from the electricity thrumming through the air, the sense of dread at the skeleton army approaching them, or both, he wasn't sure. He drew his own blade and grasped the hilt firmly with both hands as the sky above them finally burst, raindrops the size of pebbles hitting the earth.

The storm embraced him. His ears picked up the creak of a phantom windmill and the musical, steady whirring of a phonograph. The languid, maddening rhythm of that song played in his head, the beat synchronous with the pattering of raindrops around him. The first rider began to crest the hill on which they stood.

"For Hyrule!" he roared above the thunder and the vicious winds. The first swing of his great claymore decapitated the nearest Stalfos, and his companions sprung to life. Swords of all sizes flashed in the lightning, and he could tell Sky was somewhere to his right as the unearthly glow of the sacred blade throbbed just at the edge of his vision. Some of the Stalfos had leapt from their stricken mounts and had drawn their own blades. Time began to fall into step, methodically dispatching a Stalfos to his left, then his right, then his left, over and over. Battle was easy to him. It was a dance, a movement, a beat that his body knew almost instinctively. He was barely aware of the shouts of Warriors to stay in formation as he moved further into the fight. All he could hear was the sound of his sword connecting with bone, the blood rushing in his ears, and the soft, persistent notes of the storm's calling.

* * *

Inspired by Mark of Two's piano arrangement of the Song of Storms by the same name.


	5. To Stop the Moon

The camp was silent, only the gentle crackling of the fire and the wind on distant trees audible to his ears. He was on the middle shift, the darkest part of the night. He stoked the embers, watching as the firelight danced in the eyes of _that mask_. Wild had left it propped against the stump where he'd been seated that evening as they swapped stories and showed off their scariest possessions. He pulled out that thing and Time's blood ran cold. He'd regained his composure, joined in the laughter and jest, as not to cause any concern among his fellows. But now, as they all slept, it was just him and the mask.

He dropped the stick he'd been jabbing at the fire and tentatively reached toward the leering visage, his fingertips brushing the slick, polished surface. Breathing inward sharply he grasped it and pulled it into his lap, running his palm over its face. There was magic in this mask, yes, but it wasn't the same, dark twisted energy he knew. This was a pale imitation. He breathed a sigh of relief. Who on earth would make an effigy of such an evil thing? For what ends? Despite it not being the same, intensely horrific artifact that haunted him in Termina, it was still very unnerving. He stared at it, enraptured in morbid curiosity. The shadows flickered from the fire light across its unerring gaze of green and yellow. Time could hear it, as clear as the day he arrived there. _Click. Click. Click_. The clock face turned, each thunderous click as it did echoing in the night.

_A child_, the man sneered. _A child to stop the moon. _He laughed, the clock turned again. It creaked and ached like the sky above as that monstrous rock loomed. _Click. Click. A child to stop the moon._ He could see its awful face twisted in agony. He could taste the ash and fire in the sky.

_To stop the moon._

Time gasped and dropped the mask as if it had burned him. There was silence again. His companions slumbered, their rest undisturbed. It looked up at him from the ground by the fire, the flames dancing in its eyes. He kicked it aside toward the stump and turned his back to it, shivering as he did so.

_A child to stop the moon._

* * *

Set after the comic 'Masks'


	6. Seafoam and Hibiscus

_Right about now, if I'd found the right words to say,  
I'd tell you I'm sorry and take hold of your hand._

They stood together, on the bluff. The spray would whip around their faces and fill their lungs and if he really tried, he could still see the ocean in her eyes that day. Gods, he could almost taste her on his tongue, that scent of wind and sea and flower. Her joyous laughter echoed around him, the ghosts of her smile catching on his. Nothing in the world, in all the lands he'd seen, in all the wonder he'd known, would ever be as perfect as that day.

_I'll be there by your side for the rest of your life,_

And like the fool he was, he'd promised her himself. Not just her, he'd convinced himself he'd remain forever by her side, as if he knew no better. Oh, but she had known. She laughed and shook her head and smiled that beautiful, knowing smile that made his heart ache. She had told him herself he'd one day leave the island. But there, on that bluff, he had been so sure he'd never be anywhere in the world except here, beside her.

_Our bodies could fall off the end of the world._

He believed it so hard he had blinded himself.

_Something told me we'd be happy forever,  
__I don't see how this could change any of that._

And he had continued to convince himself of that, so that he was blinded when the end came. He had never truly even said goodbye, so confident was he of his own convictions. Until the moment he saw her melt away on the breeze, he had deafened his own screams with the false comfort he'd be there with her no matter what happened. The scriptures, the shrines, the warnings of the Owl, he'd ignored it all in blind belief that they were exempt from the darkness of the island.

_I will follow your ghost as it climbs up the rock-face  
__And lie with you on the grass above._

In his dreams, the Island, as promised, lived on. But it was empty. Each and every time he woke up on that beach, he'd walk to that bluff, and stand there alone. He'd scream to the sea, to the sands, to the gulls above. He'd fall to his knees and beg the lone, jagged stones in the sea to give him back that day. For the spray to leap up the cliff the same, for her cheeks to crease the same way as she smiled, for the petals in her hair to drift down to the foam as before.

_And I'd like to change all this._

But each and every dreaming was the same.

_And I'd like to wake up from this_

And each and every waking, ever more so.

_By your side_

At first, when he'd washed back up on the shores of Hyrule, he'd tried to again tell himself lies. That what he did was right, that he had freed them all from the tyranny of nightmares. That she was at peace.

_How did we ever survive for this length of time?  
__Living with only a care for one thing._

Link wasn't able to lie to himself anymore.

_But the light that shines from her  
__Whenever she's happy is worth every minute._

She should have been able to sing. To sing, and fly, and live. He had taken that. He had taken her for his own selfish ends. He had caught her like a butterfly in a net, and forgotten to free her before he smashed that bell jar into a thousand pieces. He'd basked in her sunshine and then brought her night. He should've known better. Should've known better that something as kind and pure and gentle could never be real in his bitter, sordid world.

_That we've saved ourselves._

But at least Link had survived, yes? At least Hyrule had kept its precious golden hero. Oh, at least he'd liberated the lands of another evil, before he turned it into dust. He didn't even think anymore that the Nightmare was really wrong at all. It was just like him, a creature in the cold, clinging onto the warmth of Koholint.

_Maybe there's hope in just one final second._

They were all just moths in the dark, looking for that beacon in the endless dark sea. He thought back to the moment the shadow of the Wind Fish above swallowed him in its shade and he saw the Island shimmer away into nothing. The gulls had cried above. In that last, torrid moment, a gull had cried so loudly and mournfully above that Link had wept.

_A flash of her love as she waves us goodbye._

In every dream he'd had since of that Island, in every encore of that horrific moment, Link had seen that gull. It would soar low, and drop a single red flower into his lap. Endless petals would fall from his hands into the swirling turquoise fathoms of the ocean. He would awake with a jolt to his own salted tears filling his throat. And he would sob until the sun rose when he'd invariably find a lonely bloom caught in the folds of his clothes.

_Don't torture yourself with what we might have given._

He could only dare imagine it was her way of telling him to forgive himself.

_We did everything that we could ever do._

Link tried to, he tried to for her sake. As if it might just bring him to the bluff.

_And I'd like to change all this._

Where the sun would catch on the ocean.

_And I'd like to wake up from this._

And they'd laugh forever in shades of seafoam and hibiscus.

_By your side_

* * *

A songfic of Snow Patrol's 'If I'd Found The Right Words to Say'


	7. Loss

Legend was angry.

Legend had been angry five hours ago when Wild had persuaded the group of abandon the well used, trusted, _correct_ map and go on his 'shortcut' to the next town via a dense, rough thicket on the mountainside. Legend had been angry four hours ago, when Wind had nearly lost an eye to a huge bramble that Wild had insisted they push through. Legend had been angry about forty five minutes after that, when Hyrule had fallen down a concealed cliff edge and badly bruised his ankle. Legend had been especially angry about two hours ago, when they'd fought off an ambush of Wolfos and had to use the last of the red potions on a particularly nasty savaging the old man had taken to his left thigh. Legend had remained angry when it became obvious that they would now not reach the next town before night fell, and had decided it best to make camp here in this fucking thicket. His mood had not improved in the hour that had passed waiting for dinner to be ready. It had, in fact, begun to deteriorate even lower than Legend had previously thought possible. As he sat listening to Sky sadly inform Hyrule he was going to need to use his own magic to soothe his ankle, as they simply had no healing supplies left to spare, the last fragile bastion of his patience snapped.

"No. He's too tired to use his magic, he's exhausted. Since mister fucking navigator of the year over here got us into this mess, he can get Hyrule something from his stash- which I _know_ he fucking has," Legend added the last remark with a glare as Wild opened his mouth to protest. "Why do we always agree to his fucking shortcuts? Why can't we just use the map and route we all planned _together_ and agreed on was the fastest and safest route over easy ground? I'm sorry, he fucking failed at his job while I've managed to fucking navigate four countries by myself," Wild visibly shrunk away, tears welling in his eyes and his hands shaking violently as he stirred the cooking pot. Legend for the briefest moment felt bad for his words, but it was fucking true, wasn't it?

"Legend, that's not called for and you know it," Twilight growled, "The cub made a mistake and he knows it, he was just trying to help us get there faster. You don't need to make remarks like that, you don't understand what he's been through-" Legend scoffed loudly at that statement as Wild began to silently pass around bowls of steaming hot broth. He had no sooner put one in Legend's lap before Twilight started again,

"Wild, don't fucking feed him if he's going to be this way. He never fucking takes anyone else seriously. He has no respect for any of us or our difficulties. He never had any problems on his quests so Hylia forbid we have any shortcomings!"

"I'm sorry, I've never had time to fucking mope about how terrible my life because I'm too busy fucking doing my job. This is it, this is being a hero kid, ta da! Some of us just pick up our shit and get on with it! If he can't, the least he can do is not fucking slow the rest of us down whilst we try to sort out the mess that brought us all together in the first place,"

"He watched his friends _die_, Legend! He lives with his failure every damn day! He's lost more people than you or I and he's still here trying to help us all,"

"Don't you try and tell me how many people I've lost!" Legend snarled, rising to his feet as the firelight reflected in his furious gaze, "You have one fucking woman treat you awfully and use you for her own ends the entire time you spend together, and you're suddenly the authority on fucking grief? Every fucking evening you sit there, tears in your eyes, looking at the sky like Hylia's going to drop her back in your fucking lap. You don't need to deny it because all of us see you do it. You've had one fucking quest and you act like your life is over," Legend suddenly pointed to Hyrule, who looked up in alarm and shrank back as if to distance himself from the argument Legend was about to make, "You see him there? He has _no one_. He has no family, no friends, nobody in the world to go back to at the end of a long day of dealing with the world's bullshit. Do you ever see Hyrule crying when the sun goes down? Do you ever see Hyrule trying to take us on bullshit shortcuts to make his own ego feel better about his failings? No, because he just gets on with the task until it's done! You have friends and a village and a warm bed and yet you think because I don't bleed my heart to you all you're the only one with any concept of loss?"

"If you're such a fucking expert, Legend, I'd love to hear it," Twilight drawled dryly in a mockery of Legend's own usual caustic tone. Something in him broke. The walls he had built up, the dam in his soul that had kept the hurting at bay since he was sixteen, began to crumble away. How- how dare Twilight of all fucking people tell Legend how he should feel? How dare any of them begin to even think they have the right to question his experiences?

Silence had fallen rapidly and uncomfortably over the camp. Four had even paused with his spoon half-lifted to his lips. It swelled with unspoken questions and the realization Legend had revealed more about his past in the last three minutes than he had done in all the time he'd been with them, and he wasn't yet finished.

"I've done five quests. Count them on your fingers if such a big number is difficult to you. I've saved three countries, one of them twice, and damned one to destruction. I've done Hylia's cursed song and dance routine enough times. I've lived this long through sticking to my own rules, picking myself out of my own misery and carrying on. The agents of evil do not wait for you to finish grieving, they do not give you the time to wallow and blame yourself for your mistakes, they do not care how much you've had to go through. And the only one-" his voice wavered, "the only one who asked nothing of me but a promise… died at _my_ hands. That whole island turned to fucking spray on the ocean at my behest. Each and every day her name leaves my lips and is scored across my heart and mind so I may never, _never_ break that promise and never forget the damage I have caused. But you're right, of course. What would a man who's destroyed a land know about _loss_?"

He drew himself up, hot, shameful tears streaking his cheeks. His scathing, hateful gaze swept across perhaps the only eight other men in all of time who'd understand the rage and hurt he'd kept company with for so long. And Legend wanted none of them. He stood alone, as he had done since he watched his uncle's last laboured breaths under the castle. The man, barely more than a boy, with trembling limbs threw the bowl of broth to the ground.

"You may all be content to keep your failures as bedfellows but I wield mine as my blade. I have got stronger, wiser, quicker, so that I will never make those mistakes again. I am the Hero of Legend-" his voice cracked and broke, as if the gods themselves found it laughable," "and I will fight every man beast and deity in this life and the next 'til I have _won_."

He turned on his heel and disappeared into the thicket, determined to withhold his sobs until he was far from earshot of the camp.

Legend was angry.

But he wasn't sure this time, at who.


End file.
